Two Can Play This Game
by RedPensandGreenArrows
Summary: A friendly game of pool. Established Olicity. Fluff and smut. One-shot.


**Disclaimer: Arrow does not belong me. All rights belong to DC Comics, The CW, and those persons associated in the creation of the show and comics.**

**A/N: So, this just kind of happened. I'm in the middle of working another story, but my muse hit a little bit of a slump. So, the other day as I was scrolling through tumblr, a couple of the blogs I follow reblogged a photo of EBR playing a game of pool, and all the comments pretty much said that there needs to be fic about this. My muse agreed and decided we needed to write this story. And here you go! I've never played pool, so I used wikiHow to help with some of the story. The story is not beta-ed, all mistakes are mine. Also, I haven't written smut in a _really_ long time (I normally just read it *ahem*), so I hope it's ok. Enjoy!**

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**Two Can Play This Game**

"Are you sure you don't want some pointers?" Oliver cocked an eyebrow as he used the hand resting on top of his pool cue to hide the smile that threatened to break out across his lips.

Felicity huffed, "Hello, MIT class of '09. Computers might have been my forte, but this is all angles and physics. I got this."

The smile finally broke as he watched her lean over the pool table in The Loft, lining up her shot. A feeling settled deep in his gut as he watched her, and another part of his anatomy twitched to life. Damn her ass. And she was wearing jeans! Not even her normal figure-hugging skirts or dresses, and Oliver knew it would take a considerable amount of willpower to not walk over and take her right this second.

Rocking her arm back a forth a few strokes, Felicity snapped the stick forward sending the cue ball rocketing passed her intended target. The white ball ricocheted off the opposite side of the table before smacking into a small cluster of balls, sending them in different directions across the table. No balls sunk into any of the holes. Still leaning over the table, Felicity's head snapped back to Oliver's with a narrowed look that rivaled the stink eye she gave him when he dared say she and Ray might be related.

"Not. A. Word."

Immediately, Oliver's hands came up in surrender, but the way his lips pressed together told her that he was fighting back a retort.

"Fine, Mr. 'playboy-billionaire-hotshot'. Care to show this poor tech genius how it's done then?" Felicity snarked as she came to stand in front of him with her arms crossed.

Without saying a word, Oliver sauntered to the other side of the table. His eyes sparkled with mischief, a mixture of lust and haughtiness, as he stretched across the table to take his shot. All muscle and sinew, Felicity swallowed hard watching his body ripple as he moved. Glancing back up at Felicity, Oliver gave her a wink, that same _stupid_ wink he had given her in Russia that made her stomach flutter, before loosing his pool cue, sinking the solid red ball into the side pocket. Still without a word, he strutted about the table sinking two more solids before just missing his forth ball.

"Your turn."

Felicity glared at her boyfriend and his annoyingly cocky attitude. Oh, she may have been ridiculously turned on, but those emotions were warring pretty heavily with the irritation spreading through her veins. Curse his exceedingly good looks, and his stupid smug expression on his stupidly handsome face. Well, Felicity Smoak might not have been an Oliver Queen-level pool player, but she never went out without a fight.

Holding her head high, Felicity eyed the table before picking her spot. She leaned over the side once again, taking aim, while trying very hard to ignore Oliver's presence behind her. Her right arm moved back preparing to strike forward, but before she could make her move, Felicity felt two hands grab her hips and turn her body until her ass was cradled in the seat of a pelvis.

"You should start with your body angled away from the table," Oliver murmured hotly in her ear.

Felicity went ridged and sucked in a breath as she felt Oliver mold his body to hers; his hands coming to rest atop her left and right ones.

"Your hold is good, but your left foot should be a little bit closer to the table."

He knocked his left foot into hers, moving it forward a couple of inches. Then clasping his right hand over hers, Oliver began to move the cue forward and back.

"Now, you don't want to jab at the ball with a quick strike. You want to speed up gradually as you approach the ball and follow through after you hit it. This allows for more momentum and better control. Also, you're going to want to shift your body back towards the table as you move to strike the ball."

As he continued to whisper directions into her ear, Oliver demonstrated the motions using his body to move Felicity's. Each passing second with Oliver pressed against her made it very difficult for her to maintain focus. She just wanted to melt into him, but the second that thought crossed her mind he was gone; the warmth from his body leeched away with his retreating form.

"Take your aim, Ms. Smoak," Oliver purred, his honeyed voice sending a chill down her spine.

Licking her lips and letting out a stuttering breath, Felicity zeroed in on the white ball before her and made her strike. The smack of the cue ball against its green striped analog had it sailing towards the corner pocket. With bated breath, Felicity watched the swirling mass of white and green hit its target, only to bounce off the pocket's corner at the last second. She deflated with a sigh, so close. Glancing up at Oliver, she saw a genuine smile on his face.

"Not bad, Felicity. Not bad at all."

A small blush tinged her cheeks as she pushed on the arm of her glasses to slide them back up her nose, "Thanks, but it seems to be your turn. Again."

Oliver grinned in return as he crossed to her side and Felicity backed up to give him room. Bad idea. She should have just walked to the side or around the table, because now she had the perfect view of Oliver's backside as he lined up to make his next shot. To add to her list from earlier: curse his stupidly sexy ass in those stupid jeans. That's it; this game was over. The heat Felicity had felt before came back with a vengeance and it was time to take matters into her own hands. Setting the pool cue against the wall behind her, she stepped up behind Oliver and placed her hands flat on his back, slowly skimming them up towards his shoulders. She felt him tense beneath her fingers, but he did not move from his position.

"Fe-li-ci-ty," he let out slowly as she continued on her path up over his shoulders and down his arms, "What are you doing?"

"Let's see you make a shot with someone pressed up against you."

Her lips skimmed across the back of his neck until she reached his ear. "Take you aim, Mr. Queen," came her sultry purr before taking his ear lobe between her teeth.

Felicity nearly missed the growl that left his mouth due to the sound of his pool cue smacking hard again the tabletop, but none of that matter, because he was spinning and grabbing her, and lifting her on top of the pool table all while ravaging her mouth with his. Knocking pool balls out of their way, Oliver pulled her further up onto the table as his body followed. Grabbing at the base of his shirt, Felicity yanked it along his body; her lips never leaving his save for the few seconds it took to rip the garment over his head. Then her hands went crazy, clutching and clawing at every inch of skin she could touch.

Tearing his lips from hers, Oliver panted above her, "Careful of the games you start, Ms. Smoak."

She smiled at his momentary loss of control - his pupils blown wide, the thin sliver of iris a dark, stormy blue. Felicity loved that she could evoke this type of reaction from him and give as good as she got. Slowly, without drawing his attention away from her face, she hooked one leg over his, and flipped him with a move she had learned during one of her defence lessons.

Oliver's eyes widened as she gave him a cat-that-got-the-cream smile, "Don't worry, Mr. Queen. Two can play this game."

And before he had the chance to utter a response, Felicity placed her palms flat on his chest and ground herself down on to his jean-clad erection. Oliver's head fell back on to the table with a groan as he gripped her thighs tightly. Becoming overwhelmed by the sensations from her impromptu lap dance, Felicity began to strip off her clothes; first her top, followed closely by her bra. Then once more claimed Oliver's lips with hers.

The delicious friction the couple had going felt wonderful, but it wasn't enough. Both were getting greedy for more, so Felicity removed hers lips from Oliver's with a pop.

"Please, Oliver," she begged, "I need…"

Understanding her plea perfectly, he flipped them over once more and rid them both of their jeans and underwear before promptly settling himself back between her legs. Grabbing her behind each knee and forcing her legs back towards her chest, Oliver plunged into Felicity. Both cried out as her warm, tight heat enveloped his stiff, aching member.

"Care to comment on my _aim_, Ms. Smoak?" Oliver questioned with a deep voice near Arrow territory.

Felicity could only respond with a whimper.

From there he set a punishing pace. This wasn't a time for slow and loving, they both craved an ending of pure ecstasy and this was their race to the finish.

The rough baize beneath Felicity added extra sensation to her already over-sensitized skin, but she needed him. Reaching up to grab the back of Oliver's neck, she pulled him down and wrapped her legs around his hips, forcing as much skin-on-skin contact as possible. She kissed him frantically in-between a mantra of 'yes's and 'oh god's as her fingers carded through his hair and roamed along his back. Oliver responded with grunts and groans, and a few 'Felicity's that sounded from his lips like prayers. He knew he wouldn't last much longer, so he reached between their bodies and began frenzied circles over her clit, hoping to bring her to the edge with him.

Felicity clung to him tighter, her mouth open in a silent scream until Oliver's lip attached to that spot on her neck. That spot he had discovered in Nanda Parbat right below her ear, and with just a nip of his teeth ripped his name from her lips as she scream out into the silent apartment. Oliver let out strangled noise as she clamped down around him and wrenched that tingling feeling at the base of his spine forward, sending him flying off the cliff with her.

The moment had come and gone, but they continued to remain in an embrace; holding each other until their heartbeats returned to normal, simply being together. Felicity loved these moments after, when Oliver still lay on top of her, sated and at peace. She always felt so safe and loved wrapped up in him, letting her fingers stroll through his hair. It was nirvana defined.

Finally returning from his post-coital haze, Oliver nuzzled his face in the crook of Felicity's neck, kissing a trail up to her mouth before indulging himself in her lips. The kiss was languid yet deep, God, how he loved her.

"I think we need to play pool more often."

"Yes," Felicity nodded in agreement, "Definitely more pool."

The couple shared a quick laugh before getting lost in a kiss once more.

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**A/N: Welp, uhh….. there you go! I hope it was decent! Please feel free to leave a review; I'd love to hear what you think. **

**Thank you for reading!**

**\- RedPens&amp;GreenArrows**


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